Page 147 of The Viscount's Seduction
Bam. The wood slat burned her cheek. She tugged at the ropes, tied through the horizontal slot and tried to slide away from the latch.
Again. Strike it again. We’ll leave together. Strike it again.
Bakeley, I need you.
A door crashed and a shot rang out, sending the horse into a frenzy. She felt a sharp pressure at her waist at the back.
Another knife.
“Let her go.”
That low growl was Bakeley’s.
“Try that again and I’ll cut her.”
Bam. Bam, bam, bam, bam.
“There’s a fuse, Bakeley,” she called. “Put it out.”
The knife jabbed in deeper.
The stays were like armor, Madame said. Like armor.
Queen Brighid protect me.
Bam, bam, bam. The pounding rattled her teeth.
Her gaze focused on the latch of the gate. With each strike of Banshee’s shod hoof, the screws of the mechanism loosened. With each crash, pain shot through her cheekbone. She didn’t care.
Get out, Banshee. Get out, get out.
Blood poundinginto his hands and feet, Bakeley took in the scene. Sirena had a knife to her back, and a horse likely to strike her ribs through the gate slats. And in the aisle, in the middle of a long, snaking fuse stood a keg,
Filled with gunpowder. An Infernal Machine.
Damn, damn, damn.
His father would be clacking his way through the garden with whatever loyal men he’d gathered, and it might not be soon enough
The fuse was lit, but long. Long enough for Dunchatel to make his escape.
Unless he planned to blow himself up with them.
He steadied his breath. “Why are you doing this? My lady and I have done nothing to you.”
“But I have.”
Shaldon had entered the stables behind him with more stealth than Bakeley would ever think possible.
“Isn’t that right, Dunchatel. This is about our quarrel. Let the girl go. This is not her fight.”
The horse continued to kick. Sirena was racked between the stallion and Dunchatel. If the stallion kicked the gate open, the point of the knife would sink into Sirena’s back.
“She serves a purpose for me.”
“More revenge,” Shaldon said. “Against Roland Hollister. He got free, but you were on the ship that you sunk.”
The man spat into the stall. “Aye, and against you, Shaldon. She and your heir will go up in mere moments.”
